Unfaithful Sins
by JJ Gestapo
Summary: How wanting too much can cost more than just a life. Love triangle between GreedOCHavoc. PrideUnfaithful. New Sins introduced for pain, death, & pimp romance. My first FMA, so be kind!
1. Suspicions

FMA Unfaithful Sins

Ch1: Suspicions

**Spoilers:** To anyone who hasn't dug deep in the dirt for character info, I'm sorry for any revelations I may include. I'll do my best to beat around the bush on who's actually who, and won't mention names, but you can draw your conclusions from the descriptions. I honestly don't even know if what my Resource has told is true, but it sounds legit, so just prepare for the worst.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own FMA, don't own the Seven Sins, terminology, or whatever other crap there is to NOT claim as my own.

And to pose the question, what did Envy mean when he said that they were "born" & not "created?"

**But I _do_ own my characters;** _Ingrid Harm_, _Gretchen Harm_, _Troy Harm_, _Nan_, _Roselyn_ (pronounced Ros-lyn), _Malachy_, _Unfaithfuls_, and _Grief_, and anyone else that doesn't sound like they belong regularly in the FMA series. I'm also adding in another town that doesn't exist for background purposes –**Viminal**, named after one of the Seven Hills of Rome seven low hills on the east bank of the Tiber, on and about which Rome was originally built.

**Summary:** How wanting _too_ much can cost more than just a life.

**Characters/ pairings:** Gretchen Harm/Troy Harm/ Nan, Pride/Unfaithful, Havoc/Ingrid, Greed/Grief, and I'm out for now –just supplying out some future framework.

A future apology if I don't get to any direct FMA plots/characters within the first chapters, kay? And also for taking my sweet-assed-time to get to the main points.

**Chapter 1**

**Suspicions**

_This is a few years before FMA takes place, in Viminal._

"Troy, honey?" A slender feminine figure stood respectfully in the doorway, one arm hanging casually while they other was crooked and held on at the elbow. A young man in his late twenties took a reluctant last look at his opened book, and turned his attention to her, a wistful smile breaking his usual scowled frown. It had seemed like years since had had last lain his eyes on his wife when in reality it had only been a handful of hours.

"Yes dear, what is it?" He said in an almost inaudibly pained whisper, taking off his glasses to clean them and wipe his weary eyes. It looked like he had been crying again, almost certainly thinking of Roselyn and all.

A year or so ago, Gretchen had finally become pregnant after many miscarriages, but the life of their newborn daughter was cut short by her sudden death. She was brought into the world tiny, underweight and helpless, but none the less brought unyielded joy to both parents, and none more joy was brought than to her father, Troy. No one in Viminal could ever recall seeing a man so charmed by his little girl.

Ever.

After her life had been stolen away to the other world, Troy and Gretchen were heartbroken and the foundation of their marriage began to crack. The void that sweet Roselyn had left was too great to be filled by any means, and soon Gretchen and Troy grew distant and cold toward one another, despite how they tried to hide the truth from the rest of the community.

It had also been around this time that Troy had taken a much deeper interest in his alchemy, and busied himself with books in place of his life as a watchmaker and craftsman. He had been experimenting with alchemy before to help generate elaborate devices and trinkets, becoming better with each creation. Gretchen began to spend her time under the "apprenticeship" of a local doctor Malachy, brushing up her botanical knowledge in hopes of finding out herbal remedies for her infertility and problems during pregnancies.

With a sleepy swagger, he pushed himself out of his wooden chair and crossed the room to his wife, slipping an arm around her waist and kissing her forehead. A light sigh and smile escaped her lips, and with a bashful blush she let her eyes meet with his. There is still that sorrow in his light blue eyes, a longing sadness that poisoned his once joyous soul and gnawed away at his every thought. But it would soon change, or so she hoped.

"Troy…I'm pregnant" she stammered.

"……………"

There was a brief flash of what looked to be anger, but it melted into what now looked like disappointment. A frown returned and he glanced back at his books, as if all of his studying had been in vain. A nervous hand met the back of his head as he distanced himself from Gretchen with a half step, inhaling as if wanted to say something in response to the good news, but the words never formulated. Instead he looked at her with dead eyes, as if something had just been ripped from his hands and thrown so hard that it had shattered into a thousand pieces.

"Aren't you, aren't you going to say anything dear? Is something wrong?" she pleaded, a hand brought to her mouth in hurt. She hadn't expected this kind of reaction.

It was another long moment before anything happened.

"Troy?"

"Uh, no Gretchen, it's nothing. I'm happy. I _really_ am happy. It was just a bit sudden, that's all." He forced a convincing smile, "I love you darling." he murmured into her ear, again pulling her into his arms and burying his face into her hair. He missed her smell, her softness, the presence of her at his side. He didn't want to lose her to…no, no more of _those_ thoughts. Not now at least. This could be his one moment of solitude with her.

"I've really missed you sweetheart." he said softly, reaching for her waist and unfastening the last button to her light yellow blouse. Her fingers wrapped around each strap of his suspenders and trickled down to the ends, tugging suggestively in the direction towards their bed, an inviting smile welcoming him in.

"I know Troy, I've missed you too."

---

"Are you going to tell her?" cooed the soft worried voice of a woman.

"How can I, Nan? Do you really expect me to tell her something like that?"

"Look at you Troy; you're a wreck. You've been worrying yourself sick over this, and frankly, I'm concerned. I'm genuinely concerned about your health." The woman called Nan, let out a short heaved sigh before she continued.

"It can't be good for you to pour over those books day and night. And do _this_. We need to end it here."

"What?" he looked up, dazed by her suddenness.

"You see, it would be suspicious if…"

"What are you trying to say Nan?"

"That, I…"

_-Some months later-_

Troy Harm stormed into the kitchen, grabbing Gretchen by the wrist and whirling her around so fast she nearly tripped over her own feat and fell.

"You've been screwing Malachy!" he screamed in a jealous rage.

"Wha…?"

"You've been screwing Malachy!" his voice shook with the most confidence that she hadn't heard at all. Even before they were engaged, he was always shy and reserved. She had never seen him so enraged before, especially over such a false accusation.

"What the hell's wrong with you Troy!"

"You cheating trothless whore!" he snapped, purely outraged at his wife.

"How can you say that! I love you Troy! You know I would never think of doing anything hurtful to you."

"Well apparently you and I both thought wrong, because I know what you've been doing behind my back. And DON'T even THINK of trying to tell me different."

"Who said this? What's gotten into you?"

"Explain to me, how suddenly after spending all of this time over at _his_ house that you're suddenly with child **and** without problems?"

His voice broke into a sob of pain, tears beginning to trail down his pale cheeks, "What about little Roselyn? How could you forget so easily about her? Her little smiling face of innocence, the joy of her every breath. Faithless wench, how could you so readily go to another man's bed? The nerve you have, deceiving me to believe that _that_ child which you carry is mine. You are lost to shame and dead to honor."

"Troy, let me explain-" she began, trying not to let the fear show in her voice.

"_Explain what?_ How you've gotten away with this whole affair for so long? I thought something like this was so beneath you, but here it is, before my very own eyes."

Gretchen's eyes grew wide as she saw the crumpled piece of paper clenched in his one fist.

"N, no, it's nothing like that. It's not what you think." she stuttered, backing into the counter.

"What is it then?" he muttered in a threatening tone, holding out the note still held tightly in his hand.

"…Malachy, he…he started coming onto me. Always wrote me little humorous poems, offered me help when I was studying, bought me the supplies I needed to experiment with. That's all, and nothing more." she took a deep breath to steady her nerves and hold back the hate that broiled deep inside her gut.

"_That_, right there, is my letter to him, because he asked me, how, if he couldn't have me, could woo a young woman. That right there, is…_instructions_ if you will. Yes, instructions,"

Now her voice was firm with self assurance. "…instructions, not some willed out fantasy for a _friend_, **_or a mistress_**."

Troy's face blanched almost pure white, as if he had seen a ghost from a haunting memory lost to his subconscious. He knew well what Gretchen was talking about.

"Don't think that I don't know what_ you_ were doing behind my back Troy."

Draw dropped in disbelief, he was speechless to her acclaim.

"I would've been fine with **your** affair, even if you hadn't informed me about it. But you said nothing about her having your kid! A son no less, a son…"

All the fury in her voice had collapsed into a sob, one that caused her chest and stomach to wrench in horrid pain as she put a hand to her forehead to push back the damp strands of dark hair.

"Is, is that it? I've lost my appeal to you? That I'm not good, or worthy enough to keep you faithfully by me? To have your loyalty? Your love? Which is it Troy? Which is it?"

Troy stumbled back until his hand rested on a chair which he pulled up and sat upon, sinking deep into the seat. He buried his face in his hands, fingers entwining in his sandy colored hair. An odd moment of silence elapsed.

"I couldn't take it, after Roselyn died. I couldn't bear the thought, having another child. I couldn't replace Roselyn, and I wouldn't let that happened between us. I know, it was selfish of me, for wanting that. That's why I didn't go to you often, cause once I thought that I could let it go, I saw you, and all that pain came back. Nan was there for me, and then I couldn't let go of her either. She broke it off after she told me she was expecting with my kid. I'm sorry Gretchen."

When he looked up, the tears were flooding his dull eyes. The same tears that had fallen when Roselyn was born, and when she had died. They were the ultimate form of sincerity.

Gretchen, wiped her own tears away and approached Troy, kneeing before him and lifting his head with both hands.

"We'll make this work, somehow, we will…"

**That concludes my first chapter. Sorry if it seemed uneventful, but I think it beats tons of flashbacks that would totally confuse my audience. Next chapter should introduce 2 and a half homunculus, one straight from the creation table.**

**If you have any questions, comments, or trash talk (please justify if so), feel free to e-mail me off premises and I'll try to get back ASAP.**

**Does anyone have any pointers for what its like to create a homunculus? They claim they were "given birth to," so what's up?**


	2. Blasphemy

Ch2: Blasphemy/Unfaithful

A horrible carving noise could be heard from within the Harm residence. For a whole day now, after the loss of his wife, Troy had sealed himself in his house, scribbling away like a mad man at something while violently murmuring and cursing to himself. Some could understand the rage he felt after "being robbed by the bastardly god himself," and suggested giving him some time to ventilate during such a harsh time.

Gretchen had died "in" childbirth from _pericarditis_ –infection and fluid build up in the membrane that encloses the heart. In actuality, she had just gone into labor with a sever fever, and passed away shortly afterward. The child couldn't be saved either. Troy was dumbstruck, and had grown quiet for the longest time ever before solemnly shuffling into his backroom where he commenced clearing off his shelves, or so it seemed.

Now he was drawing and scraping at the walls and floors, perfecting something of sorts. Inside his work area, a large transmutation circle had been drawn, spanning all across a cleared section of floor. In the center was Gretchen's deceased body and several other small piles of _very rare_ elements of sorts. A final outline in a black tar-like sealant covered the fresh cuts made in the hardwood floors, then filed with a liquidly pinkish material that reeked similar to burning magnesium and flesh. Just the spark of life that he needed.

"That's what everyone does wrong Gretchen. They get what they need, but not he power behind it. I've figured it out dear, I figured out the greatest solution to bringing you back. When you return soon enough, we can continue our life, even if it will be elsewhere. You, me and Ingrid. Just like you and I had promised."

He kissed the cold forehead of his wife and momentarily rested his hand on the large rise of her stomach.

He stepped back, kneeling at the edge of the pink ring of fire and bracing himself for his next task. Bloodied palms raised, he made one last wish to some unknown faith, purging himself of all his sins and guilt, all his grievances and unfaithfulness, committing his love and devotion should he resurrect his wife and child. Inscribed on each palm was a circle and 9 point star –nine sins of indulgence that he promised never to fall victim to again; over pride and gluttony, greed and lust, envy and unfaithful, wrath and grief. He would abolish these to which had caused ruin to his current life, and through this miracle, he hoped to be granted the opportunity to start anew.

He slammed his hands simultaneously over the outermost ring of the transmutations circle, avoiding the toxic burn of the incomplete philosophers stone from the small ditch indent he had spent so much time gouging to perfection. The room flashed with a blue blinding light, engulfing all within its reach in the hot light. Then just as reversely, all was consumed by darkness. The Harm house was quelled of all noise.

Sprawled out on the floor, a fuzzy-conscious Troy lifted his eyes to the pitch black room, ever so slowly adjusting to the lightless room. He heard a stirring, something moving upon the wooden floor. Half excited and nervous, he apprehensively called out to the being that was possibly present in the room.

"…Gret, Gretchen? Is that you…?" he asked in a hoarse whisper, daring not to swallow in fear of scaring whatever it was away. There was more scuffling and light labored pants, but no response. He waited for a moment, then decided to relight the candle that had been knocked off of his desk after the transmutation. When he got to his knees and held the candle out, he caught the movement of dark violently brown tresses of hair shift over a colorless, but all too familiar face.

His dear Gretchen.

"Sweetheart, it's me, Troy."

The suddenness of his voice caused the figure to move away at first, but then approached the coaxing of his voice. When the thing had gotten within a good visible range, he couldn't help but beam with a relieved grin.

"Who, are you?" asked the feminine voice insecurely.

"Why Gretchen, it's me, your husband, Troy."

"Troy…? _Gretchen?_ Who is this Gretchen? I am Unfaithful." she said plainly.

"No, you're Gretchen, not 'unfaithful.' It was I who was unfaithful to you."

"I am Unfaithful. Not 'Gretchen.' Unfaithful."

"Darling…" Troy's heart sank at the conclusion he was barely able to piece together. Sleepless nights had taken their toll on his rationality.

"No, don't call me that." demanded the sorrowful female, now rising to her reanimated legs and staggering. As Troy made his attempt to rise to his own feet to level with his creation, she jumped back in pure surprise and found a wall to support herself against. When he barely moved again, this time she reached out and grasped the door handle, pushing against it in a fit of fear and nearly tumbling into the adjacent room.

"Gretchen, please, don't-"

But she was already gone.


	3. Stray

**Unfaithful Sins**

**Stray**

**Disclaimer:** Don't own FMA, but I do own: (_Ingrid) Harm_, _Gretchen Harm_, _Troy Harm_, _Nan_, _Roselyn_ (pronounced Ros-lyn), _Malachy_, _Unfaithful, Mavis Carnegie/ Van Coover/ Coolie, Dutchess, Indulgence, Grief (?) _& the town _Viminal_.

**Date:** 12/20/05, 12/20/05

**Summary:** Ch3 update

**A/N:** I've gotta' overhaul my story and revamp it due to a character introduction, but none the less, it should remain not too drastically changed.

**On A Last Note:** Hey, how "graphic" is GRAPHIC?

**Thingy of the day:** don't have one, 'cept for doing my King Lear homework still and it is 11:36 pm. And I have work tomorrow after school, and a psychology project left untouched, AND a band concert Thurs.…oy, why do I still keep writing? Because I LOVE to! And I love all the characters too!

---

**Stray**

The rain hadn't let up for a few days now.

Central was covered in a smothering coat, saturating everything that dared to venture within the vicinity. The clouds were so thick and black that it had completely obscured the sun, save for the ominous red glower of sunrise and the rich claret smolder of dusk. What an un-typical day it was.

The shady character of a sin, Pride, strolled leisurely out in the storm, dressed in his casual attire in comparison to his usual military uniform. There was just something so compelling in the air this late evening that he couldn't stop himself from taking the brisk amble around the quiet city grounds. Something was calling out to him. Something powerful was causing this unique tension to course through his solid built body and his watchful eye to react.

The Sin was stopped in his path by a young couple dashing in the rain beneath the limited cover of a shared umbrella. How he secretly longed for companionship; but it would seem as his name suggested, that his ego, _his pride_, would inhibit him from loving another (without overly loving himself more/first). A shake of his head threw the collecting water droplets from his jet black hair, his mouth pulling into a half smile. He needed to be more realistic about these things –lately he had been fantasizing too much about another life, another time.

Standing out on the sidewalk, Pride watched the young couple disappear into a house together. There was a slight throb resonating deep in his body again, this time stronger than the last one. He now was aware of what it was: it was the signature sign of the presence of another homunculi. There was no one else on the streets though, save for the young couple that had just disappeared into the building across the intersection. Now he merely shrugged off the sensation, and pressed forward to complete his round before returning to his apartment.

The rest of the walk remained unaltered from the ordinary, until Pride crossed paths with a sluggish woman who coughed and heaved with every chilled breath she took. Her thin cotton cloths were transparent with wetness and ragged from days travel unprepared. Dark velvety hair was complimented by flickering deep midnight blue eyes, a tainting of a familiar purple slipping in and out in the multiple refractions of light. Even Pride was taken back by the _very_ pregnant woman's appearance and dress. It looked as if she had just crawled out of her own grave.

And perhaps she had. She reeked with the inarguable scent of death and rebirth, the burning sweetness of the Incomplete Philosopher's Stone and homunculus. Yes, they could smell out their own kind.

With hopeless eyes, she gazed up at the stranger, undoubtedly sensing his powerful, boastful presence. There was much hurt in her deep colored eyes, a certain betrayal and confusion, a vulnerability which all homunculi had experienced in their first waking days of birth. Pride let a genial, harmless smile cross his stern façade.

"You must be the ninth Sin?"

She stood frozen in a half cower, arms crossed over her chest to preserve what little heat she possessed.

"What is your name?" He was being surprisingly kind.

The woman dropped her eyes from his own one and stared blankly into the darkness that lied behind him. It was as if she were stuck in a trance.

"I asked you, what is your name?" he demanded this time. Again, her only response was utter muteness, save for her labored breaths.

Pride stood for a moment longer before departing with the burdened woman. No more than two paces away, she mumbled something, as if she were talking to herself.

"……Unfaithful…"

"Unfaithful, eh? And where are you headed?"

"……I don't know."

"First day's always the toughest day. I thought I'd find you wandering about, just not so soon. Come, we have much to discuss."

Putting an arm around her shoulders, Pride led the new Sin away from the city streets.

**---**

Yeah, Unfaithful is now the Ninth sin, and I'll explain why that's changed.

I have yet concocted another Sin:_ Indulgence_. That one is to be the OLDEST Sin beyond Envy's time. Say, around 800 years?


End file.
